


After Dark

by ArielAquarial



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Hand Jobs, Librarian Castiel (Supernatural), Library Sex, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 03:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30065745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielAquarial/pseuds/ArielAquarial
Summary: When a handsome patron comes to the library and starts looking up questionable things on their computers, Cas becomes far too invested, leaving him in a precarious position. Does he keep investigating (snooping in) the man’s browser history, or does he ignore his mounting suspicion...and attraction?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 113





	After Dark

"He’s back,” came a hiss from his left.

Cas’s head shot up, blue eyes peeking over the counter he was currently crouched behind. The stack of papers he had been sorting through fluttered to the floor, pulling a laugh out of Anna. He ignored her, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the handsome man making his way towards the library's computers. Once he was sure the man wouldn’t turn around and spot him, he rose to full height and moved to stand beside Anna. “He’s late today.”

“You should talk to him.”

He turned to his sister with wide eyes. “Why, so I can get murdered? You’re aware that you’re not the beneficiary of my life insurance policy, right? You won’t see a cent of it.”

She stifled a laugh behind her hand. “He’s been coming all week. If he was going to murder you, he would have done it already.”

“We don’t know that. He could be biding his time.”

“Well, if he’s a murderer, then he’s a bad one.” She gestured to the security cameras that covered the entrance of the library. “He’s leaving quite the trail.”

“You’re right. He _is_ adding up to be a bad murderer. Just because he’s using a public computer doesn’t mean he still can’t be caught.”

She snorted. “I think you listen to too many true crime podcasts.”

“I only listen to two,” he defended.

“Yeah, and then there’s the YouTube channels, and the Netflix documentaries, all of those thrillers you read, and the—”

“Weren’t we talking about _him_?” He pointed at the man’s back, a flush of embarrassment already creeping up his neck. “Maybe it’s his first murder and he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of things...”

“So, let’s make sure I understand this… You’re not concerned that we have a possible murderer in our library, only that he’s an incompetent one?”

Cas thought about it for a moment. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you go over there and give him some advice?”

He wondered what the man would think if he walked by and handed him D. Winchester’s newest novel. The main character had been unwittingly trapped in a hotel with a serial killer, and through subtle hints left by the killer, had discovered the truth and prevented himself from being the next victim. D. Winchester didn’t usually dip into the true crime genre, as his specialty was supernatural thrillers, but the book had been amazing and he hoped that Winchester would write many more. “I’m still not going to talk to him,” he decided aloud.

“But you think he’s cute!”

“That was before we decided he’s a murderer. I don’t associate with criminals.”

“No, _you_ decided he was a murderer.” She leaned in and linked her arm through his. “Look at that ass. That’s not the ass of a murderer.”

“That’s what a murderer would want you to think.”

Anna rolled her eyes and turned her back on him in favor of fiddling with their rack of complimentary bookmarks. He rolled his eyes right back before leaving the safety of the front desk. It really was a shame that the attractive man was most likely a murderer. If Cas wasn’t so convinced, he’d attempt to ask him out. As it was, he didn’t want to be the amateur murderer’s first victim.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

The man had appeared a little over a week ago, causing quite the stir with the ladies at the front desk. Anna, his little sister, had run to find him immediately, bursting into the back room and immediately going on a rant about green eyes and an ass that just wouldn’t quit. According to her, the man was just his type. Intrigued, he left the room with an armful of books that needed reshelving and situated himself in the romance section, giving him a perfect view of the newcomer.

She was absolutely correct about his ass. It was round and firm and flexed under his jeans as he walked the law shelves, running his fingers along the spines and moving his lips as he silently read the titles. He eventually settled on a book and turned to make his way to the computers. His front was just as good as the back, and the way he sauntered toward Cas, hips swinging and stride charmingly bow-legged, almost made him drop the book he had been sliding into place.

The man had settled at the computers with nothing but a small notebook and a flash drive, and stayed for hours, occasionally getting up to grab another book from the law section, then going back to the computer and continuing to type and take notes. Cas’s coworkers whispered about the man, guessing he was a law student writing a paper, or maybe even a professor—he was old enough to be one. The images that came to Cas’s mind of the man teaching a lecture were enough to heat his cheeks.

Anna elbowed him in the side every time she passed, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively before glancing the man’s way. Blessedly, he had been busy when the man had left at the end of the day, and Anna never got a chance to embarrass him further. Cas felt lighter without him there, like his presence had been a weight on his shoulders. Yes, he was incredibly attractive and had an amazing physique. Yes, he was reading law texts and writing some kind of paper so he was obviously very smart… but he didn’t know the man, and he didn’t appreciate his sister teasing him nearly the whole time he had been there.

With their last thirty minutes ticking on, Castiel began his closing duties. He checked his emails one last time, emptied the return box, reshelved the last of the books, and finally made his way to shut down the computers. He and Anna were always the last to leave, so the others were already grabbing their things and heading home. He’d lock up on their way out, as he always did, and drop Anna off at her house.

He went from computer to computer, taking each out of sleep mode and performing a shutdown cycle. Soon enough, he got to the computer his mystery man had been using. He moved the mouse, woke the computer up, and was surprised to see that the browser was still up, displaying his most recent search. He was just about to click the little X on the upper right corner when he froze, his mind finally registering what he was reading.

“Anna,” he called, waving to get his sister's attention. “Look at this.”

“Is that his computer? Did he get past the filters and look at some porn?” She stopped by his side and squinted at the computer. “Huh.”

“What do you make of this?”

“Ok, that’s weird, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

He gaped at her. “You think the fact that he was looking up tips on how to get away with murder is, what… completely fine?”

She shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I’ve searched for worse.”

“Worse than planning a murder?”

“Hold on, cowboy. What makes you think he’s planning a murder?”

“Did you forget that he was also reading law books? Clearly, he’s up to something.”

“Or, maybe he’s just a hot weirdo.”

Cas ran a hand through his already messy hair. Maybe it was D. Winchester's most recent book still running through his head, but his imagination was already beginning to run wild. “This isn’t normal, Anna.”

Castiel could see that his sister didn’t agree with him, but what was there to argue? He came to a public computer, used it to look up how to commit murder and not get caught, presumably looked up the laws that he would have to circumvent to get out of it if he did get caught, and didn’t even bother closing the browser when he was done. The man was cocky, clearly, and that was a bad quality to have as a criminal. In short, he was gearing up to be a horrible murderer.

“I can see your gears turning. It’s nothing, ok? I’ve seen worse search history on my boyfriend’s laptop.”

He never expected to see the man again, but the next day he showed up at the same time, notebook and flash drive in hand, and got busy typing away on their computers. When the man finally left a few hours later, Cas rushed to the computer. This time, he had closed the browser, but that didn’t deter Castiel at all. A few clicks were all it took to pull up his recently closed tabs. 

Two separate articles on how to use pigs to dispose of a body. Cas’s eyebrows shot up. He couldn’t seriously be thinking that pigs would be a good way to get rid of a body. That would take too long, and besides, pigs were messy eaters. Robert Pickton learned that one the hard way. The other tab was about disposing of a body bit by bit, separating it into small pieces and where to put them. That one wasn’t too bad, as long as you were patient enough.

He closed the browser and shut down the computer, hoping that the mystery man had enough sense to go with another option. Personally, Cas would look at what the cartels were doing and copy that, but he would never harm another person so it didn’t matter. At the very least, the man could take advantage of the vast forests that surrounded them and bury the body deep somewhere far off a trail.

On the third day, the man did nothing but type, only ever referring to his notebook. He walked past him a few times, but couldn’t read what was on the pad of paper since the man’s handwriting was too cramped. By the time he left, Castiel had convinced himself that he was writing a long manifesto.

When Friday finally rolled around, Cas was debating whether or not he should call the police. If he didn’t call the police, and the man ended up murdering someone, how would he feel about that? And if the police came knocking and he told them he suspected something all along, there was no telling what they would do to him. Would he get arrested? Would they think he was an accomplice?

He sat down at what he was beginning to think of as The Murder Chair and stared long and hard at the man’s last search. Acid. Lots of it, and google searches asking how long it would take to dissolve a body. It only took Cas a moment to pull out his phone and search up John George Haigh who used it in the 1940s. Apparently, he had only been caught because, in addition to being a serial killer, he was a fraud and crook, and it was those charges that led to the discovery of his killings. Overall, Cas decided it wasn’t a bad way to dispose of bodies, but the logistics of it all would be difficult and it would take time to completely dissolve the body.

Cas tapped his finger on the mouse, internally debating what he should do, when Anna made her way over and sat in the chair next to his. “What is it today?”

“Acid.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That can’t smell good, and it’s probably really messy. Didn’t they do that on Breaking Bad?”

Cas wasn’t much of a television guy, so he wouldn’t know. “Is this getting out of hand?”

“Is what getting out of hand? Your little stalking problem?”

“I’m not stalking him,” he defended, “but I am having a bit of a moral dilemma. Should I call the police? Leave a tip?”

“He’s not going to kill someone. Don’t you think I would have called them first if I thought he was a killer?”

“I know you don’t think he’s going to kill anyone, but I’m not so sure. If he wasn’t a killer, why would he be looking up all of these techniques?”

“Morbid curiosity? I don’t know, why do you watch all of those serial killer documentaries? Should I be worried about _you_ killing someone?”

“Of course not!” He blushed. “Ok, I get your point. Although, I don’t think I could forgive myself if he did kill anyone.”

“That’s fair, but I promise you, he’s not a murderer. I was the one who issued his library card, and got to talk to him for a bit. He’s completely normal.”

“But how do you know? And if he does kill someone, am I responsible for it? Can they trace this back to me? If he’s being so obvious here, at a public library, how obvious is he being elsewhere? What if he’s leaving a trail a mile wide—”

She silenced him with a hand on his arm. “You’re working yourself up over nothing. He’s not a murderer.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Trust me, alright?”

“Sure, and when the police show up to question me, I’ll just tell them that my little sister said he wasn’t going to kill someone and I decided to believe her despite the evidence.”

“You’re impossible, there is absolutely no evidence. Besides, I saw you staring at him earlier, what does that say about you? Even though you think he’s a murderer, you still think he’s hot.”

“I was keeping an eye on him. There’s a big difference.”

“You know, he was watching you too.”

“He wasn’t.”

“He was. You just didn’t see it.”

“Great. So I caught the murder’s attention. That makes me feel great about walking to my car tonight.”

She ignored him. “I’m just saying. You think he’s hot, he thinks you’re hot. You should ask him out.”

“I’m not asking a murderer out.”

“He has a name, you know. You should find out what it is.”

“I don’t want to know his name, and I don’t want to go out with him. Don’t you have work you should be doing?”

The dig had its desired effect, and he could tell by the fire in her eyes that the subject was dropped for now. “You’re not my boss.”

“No, but I am your superior, so—”

“Don’t even start with me, Castiel James Novak.”

He almost felt bad that he had goaded her into an argument, but he needed her to stop ribbing him about the handsome man. His attraction to him was something he’d been internally struggling with throughout the week, and if what she said was true—that the man had been watching him while he was working—then he was in more trouble than he thought.

The next morning, Cas got to work and began his usual tasks with half an eye out for their controversial patron. He came at his normal time, notebook and flash drive in hand, and sat at the same computer. Cas stayed close by, intent on watching him like a hawk. If he slipped up, Cas would know. If he gave any sign he was about to kill someone, he would know.

He soon learned that he wouldn’t be able to watch him all day like he’d hoped. He had tasks to do, emails to check, a boss to report to, and breaks to take. It was an hour before the library was supposed to close that he was finally able to begin his observations again, and just like earlier, the man was doing nothing suspicious, just typing in his document, and taking a moment to stretch his back every so often.

It seemed like an eternity before the man closed out of his programs and stood up for one last stretch, bracing his hands on his hips and arching his back. Usually, Cas would wait until he shut down the computers before he went over to check the search history, but it had been driving him crazy all day. He just had to know, and he had to know now.

The moment the man walked out of sight, Cas was striding over. The chair was still warm when he slid onto the lacquered wood and grabbed the mouse. Clicking on the internet icon, he was surprised to see that the page had merely been minimized, and he grinned at his luck. There were multiple tabs open, all researching hotels in the areas, with pictures and lists of amenities. Disappointment bloomed in his gut. It would be just his luck that today the man had been making vacation plans. He went into the history, hoping that there would be something, anything suspicious, but the only other thing he had researched were recipes for strawberry rhubarb pies.

There has to be something. There’s always something.

Right when he was about to get up and retreat to the breakroom to lick his metaphorical wounds, he noticed that not only had the internet browser been minimized, but the word document he had been working on was open on the taskbar as well. He sat straighter in his chair, and with shaking hands, he clicked on it.

He’d been thinking about the contents of the manifesto for days, wondering over its contests and hoping that it highlighted the man’s plan. Words filled his screen and he started reading.

Except, it wasn’t a manifesto. It wasn’t a plan. It wasn’t even a law school paper. It was… fanfiction? He frowned and leaned closer, as if the pixels would grant him clarity. As he read the document, a few things became clear. First, this was indeed fanfiction. Second, it was fanfiction for D. Winchester's most recent novel, the very one Cas had been talking about nonstop since he read it. And third, it was good. Very good. The characterization, the dialogue… It was almost like Winchester himself was writing it.

“Can I help you?”

Cas jerked and stared wide-eyed into the face of the man he had been watching all week. “Uh…”

The man just continued to stare, his eyes darting between Cas and the computer screen. Cas opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened again. He was caught and there was no denying what he had been doing. “Hello. I work here.”

Green eyes flickered down to Cas’s nametag.

“I was just trying to shut down the computers.”

“Right… You look cozy for someone who’s trying to turn off the computer I was still using.”

His cheeks flamed. “I thought you were done.”

The man looked at his watch. “You guys don’t close for another half hour.”

Cas was so flushed he was sure he would catch on fire. He had no excuse—that he was willing to admit to the man’s face, at least. He began to stand. “I’m sorry, let me—”

It seemed like he wasn’t going to get off the hook so easily. “Aren’t there laws against you guys snooping?”

“I’m not snooping,” he muttered, although he knew that was exactly what he had been doing. The library _did_ have privacy laws in place, but those mostly revolved around patrons’ records, not their computer usage. The filters were supposed to take care of that issue. It wasn’t against the law to look at search history, but it wasn’t exactly ethical either. God, he felt like such an ass. As glad as he was that the man was not a murderer, it meant that Cas had been spying on an innocent man. Any moral high ground he had was gone. Professional boundaries had been crossed, and there was no going back. Cas bit his lip and looked back at the screen, floundering for the magical words that would undo the last minute of his life. Hell, the last week of his life. But the only thing that came to mind was the fact that this man had been writing fanfiction for his favorite book. “You’re a fan of D. Winchester?”

“D. Winchester?” the man asked, his voice deep and smooth. Cas’s question appeared to throw him off if his frown was anything to go by. “The author?”

Cas gestured towards the computer. “The fanfiction you’re writing… You must be a fan.”

“Fanfiction?”

“It has the same characters as _After Dark_ , his latest novel. Is it supposed to act as a sequel? I’ve heard there might be one, but Winchester’s blog hasn’t confirmed it yet.”

The man stared at him for a moment before he seemed to come to a decision. He sat in an empty chair and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he gave Cas his full attention. “Are you a fan of this Winchester guy?”

“I am a fan. I’ve read _After Dark_ too many times to count. I’ll be the first to tell you that this is very good. I only read a few paragraphs, but you seem to have the characterization of the protagonist down.”

“And you think my… fanfiction is good?”

“Very good. This line here, where David is reunited with Adam,” he pointed to the document, indicating the paragraph. “Considering how the book ended, this is perfect. It captures the ambiguity of the future of their friendship. But a few paragraphs down, you have Adam forgiving David. I don’t think it should happen like that.”

“Oh, really?”

“I don’t think Adam would forgive David so easily. If you remember, when Adam tried to warn him about the serial killer, David dismissed him, driving a wedge in their friendship and eventually leading to its end. He’d seen the villain’s behavior for what it was and tried to warn him, but David blew him off and forced him to leave..”

“Well, I didn’t mean it like—I mean, I didn’t interpret it that way. Sure, he was an ass, but they were childhood friends. They wouldn’t let a little argument get in the way of that.”

“A little argument?” Cas repeated. Shaking his head, he pulled out his phone and opened his e-reading app. “Look at this quote on page one-hundred and thirty-four—” he showed the bookmarked quote to Dean. “David insults his intelligence, which we know is a soft spot for him because of his abusive father, and tells him to get lost. Seems pretty cut and dry to me. Canonically speaking, Adam is the type of man to hold a grudge. I don’t think he would let David off so easily.”

“Oh, you think that’s canon? Tell me what else you think is canon.”

Cas squinted at him. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No. I’m curious, is all.”

“I don’t know how much I can say. It’s only one book, after all, but Winchester tends to write characters who are stubborn and independent. If that holds true, Adam is going to need more than an apology to forgive David. That’s just my opinion, though.”

“How many of his books have you read?”

“All of them.”

“Wow.” 

He could feel his face flush, but he pushed through. “Your tone is really good if you’re trying to emulate his style. He doesn’t seem to try too hard. A lot of authors add flowery symbolism or take themselves too seriously. Too much purple prose. Winchester doesn’t do that. It’s one of the reasons I like him.”

“Oh, yeah? You don’t think it’s too simple?”

“It’s not simple, it’s refreshing. The plot is the main feature, not how many big words the writer can fit into the text.”

“Refreshing? You don't think he's a has-been? The guy has been writing for years. Isn't he just another washed-up author?”

“Absolutely not. Anyone who says that simply doesn’t have taste. I know Winchester received some criticism for this book, mainly from people who were upset he’s straying away from paranormal fiction, but I thought it was amazing.”

“A lot of people seemed to hate it.”

“It got overwhelmingly good reviews, though. I think the criticisms came from a very vocal minority. Everyone I know who has read it loved it. I supposed if I did have any criticism, it would be that he wrote Adam and David with such a close relationship as a crutch. If you think about his paranormal series, it centers around a pair of brothers, and in _After Dark_ , Adam and David are as close as brothers. He’s writing what he’s comfortable with, and I for one would love to see what he can do with only one main character, or even a female protagonist.”

He was staring at Cas, green eyes wide with surprise. “No one’s ever said that before. Thanks for the feedback. I wish my editor was as honest as you.”

Cas offered him a small smile. It was nice being able to talk to a fellow Winchester fan. Anna only ever read romances and wasn’t interested in ghosts or killers like Cas was, and despite how great the books were, he knew she wouldn’t enjoy them. There was a forum he participated in, but it wasn’t the same as... Wait. He had said editor. Not a beta, an editor. Maybe Cas misheard. “Your what?”

“What?”

“Did you say ‘your editor?’”

“Uh, yeah… my editor.”

Cas’s eyes shot over to the front desk, where Anna had been watching them the whole time. The minute their eyes met, her eyebrows waggled suggestively, and he wanted to curse. Dread was pooling in his stomach, and he had to ask, “What did you say your name was?”

With the most satisfied smirk Cas had ever seen, the man held out his hand to shake. “Dean Winchester.”

He wanted to shake his hand. He wanted to pull him into a hug and thank him for writing some of his favorite books. But he also wanted to run into the nearest bathroom and throw up. “Oh, god…”

“When I saw you at the computer, I thought you were trying to steal my draft or something.”

“I had no idea you were you!”

“Yeah, the fanfiction comment gave that away. The girl at the front desk knew, so I thought she told you.”

“Oh, god. I’m so embarrassed. She didn’t say a word.”

“So, do you always snoop on people’s computers or am I just special?”

“It’s just you, I promise! I don’t normally—” He cut himself off. Everything he said would just make things worse.

Dean smiled. “What makes me so special, then?”

“I thought you were a murderer!” Dean burst into laughter, forcing Cas to defend himself. “The first time you were here you left the browser up and you had looked up how to get away with murder! What was I supposed to think?”

Dean rubbed at his eyes, wiping away the moisture that had formed from laughing, “Oh, man. Is that why you were staring at me so much? Fuck, I thought you were attracted to me! I was totally going to ask you out tomorrow.”

Cas froze. Dean had been planning on asking him out? Anna had been telling the truth when she said she caught Dean watching him too? He tried to push away the fact that up until fifteen minutes ago he was convinced this man would eventually murder someone, and attempted to undo the mental gymnastics he used to convince himself he wasn’t attracted to Dean. He was nice, and clearly very understanding. He was smart, if his career was any indicator, and his books were some of his favorites. He was extremely attractive, and the longer he looked into his eyes the less he cared that he had been using a public computer to look up questionable things. He’d dated people for less. “Why tomorrow?”

“I can pick up my laptop from the repair shop tomorrow night, so I figured it was as good a time as any. That way, if you said no, I wouldn’t have to come back.”

“Your laptop is broken,” he repeated. “That’s why you’ve been working on the book here.”

“I tried to use my uncle's PC, but it's old as shit. These are old too, but at least the software is up to date.”

The lights dimmed, signaling the imminent closing of the library. Dean cursed quietly. “I was hoping to finish this scene tonight.”

“This scene?” he pointed to the paragraph where Adam had accepted David’s apology.

“Heh. Yeah, that one. Looks like I should probably take it home and rethink it. You’re probably right about Adam.”

“I could help?” he offered.

A delicate throat clearing interrupted their staring. Anna looked between the two men, her lips pressed together to prevent the laugh that she was clearly holding in. “We need to lock up.”

Cas glanced around and was surprised to see that they were the only three left in the library. He turned back to his sister and gave her a significant look. “Give me a few minutes.”

She winked and left, heading back to the front desk with a hop in her step. Dean was grinning at him. “I don’t know how much you can help since the library is closing. All of my notes and outlines are on the flash drive and without my laptop…”

He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. It was against the rules, and he’d probably get fired if anyone found out, but when would he ever get another chance like this? “We can stay a little longer. If you want, that is. If you’re busy…”

“I’m not.” He glanced back at the front desk. “Your friend wouldn’t mind?”

He shook his head. “I’ll let her know.” He forced himself to walk casually to the desk. “Anna, you can get my keys from the breakroom and head out. I’ll take care of things here.”

She smirked at him. “Oh? If I take your car, how are you going to get home?”

“Honestly, I don’t care. I’ll walk if I have to.” He glanced back to the man patiently waiting for him. “Leave.”

She made a face. “Fine, but don’t forget to clean up after yourself and don’t forget about the cameras.”

“Anna!” he hissed. “I’m not going to—” but he cut himself off, because if the opportunity arose… Well, Dean was a very handsome man. He’d be an idiot not to. “Just get out of here.”

She laughed loudly and practically skipped to the back room to grab her things. He waited until she came back out with her bag and his keys in hand. “You sure?”

“Yes. I’ll use my spare key and _you_ can pick me up tomorrow for once.”

He watched her leave, flipping the front lights off on her way out. Dean was already back in his seat, highlighting paragraphs. “So I know which ones are shit,” he explained.

Cas gaped at him. “They aren’t that bad!”

Dean snorted. “They kind of are. It’s ok, though. You were right. Adam is pretty stubborn and I think he would appreciate a little groveling from David.”

“Did you want to work on that scene?”

“No, I’ll figure that out later. I figured you could help me do a few research things since I have your undivided attention.”

“Of course. What do you need?”

“My first day here I was trying to find out some information about the notoriety-for-profit law. I googled it, but all I found was a Wikipedia article and I needed something with more legal mumbo-jumbo. I gotta sound like I know what I’m talking about, right?”

Already he was getting up and gesturing for Dean to follow. He knew just where to look. “Is this for the book?”

“That’s a secret.”

With his back to Dean, he didn’t bother hiding his pout. “Fine.”

“Don't you need to check the reference desk?”

Cas tapped his finger to his temple. “I’ve dealt with the law section ever since I got this job. I know it like the back of my hand.”

“Oh yeah? What other sections do you take care of?”

“Romance and young adult.”

“Sounds fun, but I was hoping you’d say my stuff.”

“If I did, I’d never get any work done.”

Dean grinned and they continued through the stacks in silence until they reached the law section. 

“You can’t check these books out, so I’m very familiar with the selection," Cas said, scanning the shelves. "Now, I think notoriety-for-profit would be covered in these…” He pulled two books from the middle shelf and turned, coming face to face with Dean.

His eyes were dark and he was standing far too close. All Cas had to do was move an inch or two and they would be touching. Heat shot through his body and Anna’s parting words rushed back to the forefront of his mind. Dean flicks his tongue out, wetting his bottom lip, and clears his throat. “If I was reading things wrong, tell me now. I’ll just—”

Cas dropped the books and grabbed Dean's shoulders. With a single push, Dean stumbled into the shelf and Cas followed after him, uncaring that there was an uneven wall of books and dividers pressing into Dean’s back. He spared a moment to take in Dean’s flushed face and parted lips before diving in. Dean groaned into his mouth and pushed back, chest and hips connected in a burning line along their bodies. Their tongues tangled, pushing and rubbing… It was far too aggressive for a first kiss, but there was lightning in Cas’s veins and he could do nothing but kiss him even rougher, push him into the shelves even harder.

Dean made no sound of complaint, just took what Cas gave him, his arms wound tightly around Cas’s waist, scratching and fisting at his white button-down shirt to the point that Cas wasn’t sure if it would ever iron smooth again. Hips ground against his, pressing the thick lines of their hardening cocks together in a delicious rub, and Cas was overheating. He gave Dean’s tongue a nibble and pulled away, savoring the way Dean’s mouth chased his. They took a moment to suck air back into their lungs, staring at each other with lust flashing in their eyes. Dean’s face was red and his pupils were blown wide, leaving only a thin ring of green visible in the dim light. If that was what Dean looked like, Cas was sure he looked even worse.

Softer this time, Cas braced his forearms on either side of Dean’s head and joined their mouths again. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist and pulled him in, holding him in place as they pressed together. Dean wormed a hand between them, dipping his fingers behind the belt of his slacks and pulling out the tails of Cas’s shirt so he could stroke the skin over his hips and stomach.

Dean pulled away, letting his head fall back against the spines of the thick books. “God, I wish we had a bed.”

Cas moaned at the image of Dean naked on a bed, sheets twisted around his legs and moaning as Cas thrust in and out of him. “Fuck. You’d look so good.”

Dean cursed and pushed Cas back. When there was finally some room between them, Dean took hold of Cas’s belt and began unbuckling it. With that barrier gone, he made quick work of the button and zipper, and pulled his slacks open, exposing a vee of Cas’s boxers. Beneath the soft cotton, Cas’s cock stood hard and proud, pushing against the cloth, giving away his desperation.

Dean reached out tentatively, giving Cas all the time in the world to stop him, but Cas pushed his hips forward instead, granting Dean all the permission he needed to close that last bit of distance and run the tip of his finger down the length. Cas let out a long breath at the contact and Dean smirked at him. Encouraged by Cas’s reaction, he took the elastic and pulled it over Cas’s dick, freeing him from its confines. Not wanting to be the only one exposed, Cas reached across the divide and worked to get Dean into a similar state of undress. When he finally got his pants open and was able to pull the briefs down, Dean’s cock sprang free. It was long and thick, not too different from Cas’s, and his mouth watered the longer he stared. He forced himself to look away before he did something embarrassing like ask to suck his cock.

They locked eyes; Dean was the first to move. With a firm grip, Dean ran the tight channel of his fist over Cas’s cock, and he let out a gasp as his knees suddenly felt weak. His gasp turned into a moan as Dean quickly picked up the pace.

“Come on, Cas. Touch me.”

He shook himself out of his daze and finally wrapped his hand around Dean’s cock in a slow and leisurely stroke. When he reached the tip, he tightened his hold and twisted before bringing it back down. Dean let out a high “Ah!” stroking Cas faster as the sound of their panting filled the quiet library. It felt dirty and all kinds of wrong to be doing this in his workplace, but the more he thought about it, the higher his arousal climbed. He closed his eyes, afraid that the sight of the books behind Dean would end things before they even got started.

Behind his eyelids, he saw the lights dimmed, and when he opened his eyes it was to find most of the lights off, leaving a few security lights. He let out a chuckle, about to suggest they jump around a bit to get the motion-sensor lights to turn back on, but that laugh turned into a hiss as Dean grazed his balls, giving the sensitive skin a little pressure. Lighting all but forgotten, he jumped back into the hand job.

Their arms crossed in the middle, elbows bumping as they stroked and squeezed, desperately trying to get the other off before they finished themselves. Judging by the expression on Dean’s face, the man was getting close and it couldn’t have come at a better time because Cas’s own orgasm was spiraling closer to the surface. Dean must have come to the same conclusion, because he doubled his effort and squeezed tighter, stroked quicker. Cas reciprocated, desperately trying to hold off his orgasm as long as possible, but with Dean working his cock over so expertly, he knew he didn’t stand a chance.

Cas let out a moan and couldn’t help slowing his strokes, his thighs and stomach clenching as his orgasm crested, covering Dean’s hand in a thick layer of come. Cas forced his eyes back open and continued moving, going as quickly as he could in his post-orgasm haze. He soon became grateful for having finished first because it meant he could give Dean his full attention, watching as Dean threw his head back, bit his bottom lip, and shook through his own orgasm.

He let go of Dean’s cock and stepped back, finally able to catch his breath. Dean’s lips, red and tender from their kissing and the rough way he had bit them, tipped up into a satisfied smile, and he finally opened his eyes and took in Cas’s similarly tousled state.

Dean held his hand away from himself, clearly disgusted with the cum drying between his fingers. Cas couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he held his own hand in the sameway. “There’s paper towels in the bathroom.”

Dean laughed. “Thank god. I didn’t want to use my shirt. How about we clean up and get out of here. This place is starting to give me the creeps.”

Cas looked around the empty, mostly dark library. “It’s peaceful.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything while they headed to the bathroom. Inside, they washed their hands and righted their clothes. By the time Cas locked the library and they walked out the front door, it was nearly nine o’clock, long past closing time.

Dean must have realized that his car was the only one in the lot, because he stopped Cas with a hand to his shoulder, and turned to him in confusion. “Where’s your car?”

“I usually drive with my sister, and she took the car home with her.”

He shuffled back and forth on his feet before making up his mind. “I'll take you home.”

“Take me home?”

“Of course! I’m not going to make you walk. It’s cold as shit outside.”

Cas nodded in thanks. When he told Anna he’d walk, he didn’t consider that his trench coat wouldn’t be enough to keep the chill away.

“I’d still like to help with your book, if you were serious about the offer.” Cas mentioned as soon as he got into Dean’s car. The leather seats squeaked under him as he turned his body to face Dean’s.

“We could probably work something out.”

“Really?”

“Have you ever written before? I could hire you as a ghost writer.”

Cas huffed. “Not interested. I wouldn’t want to ruin your good name.”

“I’m sure you’d be fine, but I’m not sure how much of my draft I want you to read. It’s a little rough.”

“None of what I read was rough.”

“Except for the Adam and David thing.”

“Except for that.”

Cas wished he lived further away, because his house was only a five minute drive from the library and that only gave him a few more minutes with Dean before they arrived. Dean must have realized that too, because after a few moments of silence he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Why don’t you give me your phone number and I can text you tonight. You know, so we can figure things out.”

Cas couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his face. “I’d like that.”

Dean’s smile matched Cas’s as he pulled into his empty driveway and put the car in park. Cas rattled off his number and got out of the car, ready to say goodbye, when he was stopped by Dean. “I’ll text you tonight. Maybe we can get some coffee and talk about the book.”

“We can do that…” Cas cocked an eyebrow, “Now that I know you won’t try to murder me...” 

Dean threw his head back and laughed, and Cas watched in satisfaction until Dean was able to calm down enough to give him a bright smile and pull out of the driveway. Cas watched him drive off with butterflies in his stomach.


End file.
